


Least I Can Do

by KoolJack1



Series: Hannibal Kink Meme Prompt Fills [4]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, Dog Friends, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Unintentional drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:29:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoolJack1/pseuds/KoolJack1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written For The Prompt: Hannibal unknowingly eats someone who's been a long-term opioid user. Some opioids get stored in muscle and fat tissue with chronic use. Hannibal is opioid-naive because he never takes them, so he gets completely stoned. </p><p>Bonus points if Will takes him home and lets him sleep it off while curled up with a dog because Will Has Better Things To Do Than This, Dammit.</p><p>http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/2246.html?thread=3086790#cmt3086790</p>
            </blockquote>





	Least I Can Do

He didn't often get to enjoy a meal to himself, certainly not as often as he'd like. As much as he enjoyed feeding everyone else, sometimes sitting down with a glass of wine and a full meal was just as enjoyable.

He'd gotten himself fresh meat for his meal tonight, then spent the entire evening preparing it. He didn't slack just because no one would be enjoying it with him, those elaborate displays that were his meals weren't just for the show of others. He enjoyed them just as much. He even put on a fresh suit and opened a fresh bottle of wine for himself before sitting down. He got up again to turn on some soothing classical music as an after thought. It complimented the liver well.

He ate slowly, savoring each bite and following it up with a small sip of wine. The flavors complimented each other perfectly. He cut each piece of meat into perfectly chewable chunks, enjoying the way the homemade sauce changed the color of the meat slightly when it was soaked in.

He allowed himself a minute to sit and digest aftar his meal was complete. He often got right up to clean and tidy up, he didn't like the mess of dirty dishes cluttering his house for a moment too long. After the feast was complete, it should be as if there was never one there. Until the next one, of course.

Not tonight though, tonight he leaned back a bit and enjoyed the after taste. He even shut his eyes, allowing himself a moment of tranquility and inner peace that he only felt so completely right after her ate.

When he opened his eyes again, something was strange. The world swam slightly before his eyes, tilting on its axis. He lifted his head and blinked to clear his blurry vision; his brows coming together in confusion. He noticed then that his hands were trembling slightly, his breathing a little labored. He could even feel his heart beating; hear each thump in his ears. It wasn't an unpleasant experience in the slightest, just one he'd never felt before.

Medically, he knew something had gone wrong and he should be far more concerned than he was. Mentally, right now he didn't care. The way his body was numb and hypersensitive at the same time was beautiful. He stood up on shaky legs and walked on autopilot from the room. He turned around suddenly and took his wine with him.

The plates were left forgotten.

-

Will knocked and waited, knocking again after he received no answer. Concern flooded him after another try, and then he tested the knob. The door was unlocked. He went in after a quick internal debate, finding the house disturbingly quiet aside from the faint notes of a classical tune drifting around the house.

He followed the music, finding it playing in the empty dining room. He reached for his gun, turning the music off. "Dr. Lecter?" He called, walking into the sitting room. Hannibal was there, laying on his couch in an ungraceful lump. He was dressed in his typical attire, but Will's heart began to race. He looked unconscious, not asleep.

A half empty glass of wine sat on the table, without a coaster. He hurried to his side and knelt near his friend, "Dr. Lecter?"

The piercing eyes opened, and Will's brow furrowed. The sharp eyes were wide, dilated, and unfocused. Upon seeing Will, Hannibal's thin lips curled up into a smile. A genuine, unguarded one. One he'd never seen on Hannibal before.

"So good to see you, Will." Even his voice was different. The typical flat and unemotional tone was replaced with a slightly louder pitch. He sounded more human. Will knew the look.

"Are you high, Dr. Lecter?"

Hannibal giggled, and Will was taken back; disturbed. The entire situation made him more uncomfortable than Hannibal's typical stoic persona. He'd come so accustomed to that, seeing the man now suddenly showing himself being so normal was disheartening.

"I had a few glasses of wine."

Will shook his head, smiling slightly as Hannibal attempted to sit up, "I know what being drunk looks like; you don't look drunk."

Hannibal thought about it, and if Will wasn't so concerned; he would have found the look of deep concentration on the doctor's face humorous. His dinner guest of the night had been an ex-patients ex-boyfriend. Countless sessions and many tears later, he'd discovered the relationship was abusive. And truthfully, he liked the woman. If she hadn't been so tangled up in the terrible relationship she was stuck in; she'd be an outstanding person. Her life worth was diminishing because the filth wouldn't let her live. When she'd come to him a few weeks prior and said her significant other said they could no longer afford her 'pointless treatment', Hannibal had made up his mind, and the man had become his most recent meal. She couldn't untangle herself, therefor he'd help her.

Even in his drug induced haze, the dots connected for him. All the stories she'd shared with him about her lover; they made sense suddenly. The abusive and sporadic behavior, the impulsiveness and stealing. It all made sense with a long term drug habit.

When he realized, he laughed out loud again; startling Will. "I was rather foolish."

Will reached out to steady him as he sat up and rubbed his hand over his face, "I'm sure you had a reason for taking them. What did you take? How much? Have you done this before?" Will was concerned by his behavior, Lecter drank socially; but Will never imagined him using any form of drugs.

Hannibal shook his head slowly, the room swimming before his eyes, "I believe I was drugged."

The hand on Hannibal's shoulder felt nice and he leaned into, skimming his nose against the back of Will's knuckles and inhaling deeply. Will shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat, "By whom? Where?"

Hannibal laughed again, imagining telling Will the truth. Instead, he leaned forward and lifted a hand to dramatically pet Will's curls. "You're hair is very soft," he commented. Will was surprisingly gentle and in control; he took Hannibal's hand from his hair and held it with his own.

"Focus," he instructed. Hannibal tried, his natural personality fought to regain control of himself. Instead he reached his other hand up to touch Will's hair again with a sigh.

"What would you like me to focus on?" Will frowned at him before standing. "Are you leaving?" Will was torn between amusement, annoyance, and deep concern. 

"Yes I am, but I'm taking you to my house."

Hannibal tried to stand on his numb legs, Will steadied him. "If you'd like me to come with you, I will."

"I'm not leaving you here like this, I can't believe you resorted to narcotics."

Hannibal smiled lazily at him, "Not on purpose, I'd never on purpose."

Will didn't respond, and instead led the other man to his car. He was quiet then, in a drug induced haze while Will drove. Nothing had exactly brought him to Hannibal's, he didn't want to admit he'd only gone because he missed the man. Good thing Hannibal was in no state of mind to realize Will had shown up completely unannounced.

Hannibal stared into space, a tremor ran through him suddenly and Will turned on the heat. When he looked up again, Hannibal had closed his eyes. Was he really drugged? Where and by who? With what? Too many questions, ones Hannibal was in no state to answer. He'd found the man passed out on his own couch, alone, completely dressed. Being dressed wasn't a sign he'd been out, Hannibal always dressed like that. Will recalled the image of the kitchen, realizing now there was only one set of plates down. Only one person was in the house with him, he'd eaten alone.

There was wine opened, and only one glass. Will frowned, he couldn't see who could have drugged Hannibal. The man was a doctor, he had the ability to get just about any drug that could be prescribed without much question. Would he medicate himself? And why? He wanted to believe Hannibal would have a good reason to explain all of this when he came down, but Will had a sinking feeling there wouldn't be one.

Hannibal had taken the drugs, whatever they were, himself. He prepared his own food, no one could have drugged it. He was alone.

Will was anxious with the idea that he dumped all his emotional baggage on a man who was more than willing to always help him, then that same man went and got high. Hannibal was not a recreational user, he would take them with purpose.

He just hoped the purpose wasn't to numb his mind. Will didn't think he could handle his rock needing assistance, as selfish as that sounded.

When they arrived at Will's house, it was already dark. Hannibal hadn't moved, and Will kept finding himself glancing over anxiously to check if the man's chest was still rising and falling with even breaths. 

He got out and came around the car, opening the door to find Hannibal had opened his eyes slightly. He looked around, disorientated and confused. Will smiled reassuringly and reached out to help him from the car, "We're at my house, remember?"

If he did or didn't, Will couldn't tell. But he followed him willingly up the front door; leaning heavily on Will in silence. He stood back as he got the door opened, all the dogs came out and sniffed at Hannibal before running out into the yard. All except for one. Winston sniffed him a little longer, Hannibal had no reaction. The dog whined slightly and followed them inside. Will got him laying down on the couch, "Watch him, Winston." The dog stayed near the couch as Will went to fetch a few things.

He returned with a pillow and blanket, arranging them under and over the unresponsive form. Will checked his pulse, his skin didn't feel hot or cold. His pulse seemed normal, and he was breathing. He appeared to be in a deep sleep. Will wasn't a doctor, but he seemed alright; either way he doubted Hannibal would appreciate him bringing him to the hospital to be sure. Hannibal had kept many of Will's secrets, it was the least Will could do to keep this one for him.

Winston stayed put while Will took the small pail from his bathroom and emptied the trash before getting a glass of water and returning. He smiled to himself when he found Winston had perched himself next to Hannibal on the couch. Will had never imagined in Hannibal would like laying with a dog; but it was often the only comforting thing to him, so he let Winston rest his head on Hannibal's chest. He placed the water on the table next to the couch and set the can down, just in case. He wasn't sure what he took and how much, if he woke up sick; at least he'd be prepared.

He felt awkward hovering, so he let the other dogs in and the followed him to his own bed. Winston watched from his post on the couch. Will briefly entertained the idea of at least removing Hannibal's shoes; but he knew that was crossing so many lines. The man seemed dead to the world anyway, and Will stripped to his own sleeping attire and laid down. He was wide awake all night.

The clock told him it was nearly 3am when he heard Winston jump from the couch, followed by retching. Will flinched, fisting his blankets to keep himself from getting up. Silence followed, undisturbed again.

At 7am, he realized he must have dozed off. He got up and quietly peeked at the couch. Hannibal seemed to be peacefully asleep now, his normally perfect hair now hung in his eyes. Winston was back in his spot, one of Hannibal's arms around the dog's body. Will smiled slightly, picking up the can and going to rinse it out.

He returned to find Hannibal's eyes opened, they were clear and focused again. Will smiled slightly.

"I'm beyond terribly disgusted with myself, Will. I'm terribly sorry for intruding on you and being such an inconvenience. It will never happen again, and I'll make this up to you."

Hannibal sat up and Winston sat on the floor near his feet. Hannibal's long fingers scratched the dog's head. "You do so much for me, it was no trouble at all. Would you like something to eat?"

Will winced, Hannibal didn't eat the garbage he had. "My stomach feels a little unsettled still, but I'll gladly cook at my home for you. If you would be kind enough to drive me home."

"I should get dressed."

"Come like that," it struck Will as an odd request. Pajama bottoms and a white shirt. When Hannibal stood, he looked pristine as ever. His clothes were hardly wrinkled. That shocked Will. His hair hung on his face in a way that made him look younger.

Will looked away before he got caught staring and got his keys. Looking back, Hannibal was crouched by Winston. "And thank you, Winston, for looking over me. I'll be sure to bring you a treat next time we see each other." Will smiled and Hannibal patted the dog and followed him out. He looked much better.

In the car, Will hesitated before breaking the silence. "I don't know what happened last night, but we can talk about it if you'd like. I was worried."

"I appreciate the concern, and everything you did; I assure you it will not happen again though."

Will knew not to pry.

They got to Hannibal's in companionable silence, and he followed Hannibal into the dining room. Hannibal saw the unwashed dishes and made a face, neither commented.


End file.
